


The Forgotten Love That Shouldn't Be

by FreezingKaiju, Pupmon1



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Amnesia, F/F, Goddess AU, Kinda?, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13863750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingKaiju/pseuds/FreezingKaiju, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pupmon1/pseuds/Pupmon1
Summary: Thoughts...memories...things that never happened. Can love be forgotten? Should it? Maybe it would be better if it did...then maybe she wouldn't have these feelings towards the one she wanted so much to hate.





	The Forgotten Love That Shouldn't Be

Beruka walked between the trees silently. Fruits hung over her head, and there was silence. Silence was nice, she could think, or, better, she could not think. There was just...peace. She looked around carefully before carefully pulling herself up to a sturdy branch. She was supposed to be patrolling the grove, but nothing ever happened, so she rather spent her time relaxing in a tree.

She leaned back on the trunk of the tree and sighed softly. She looked up slightly and reached out, plucking a slightly over ripe berry left behind. She bit into the semi-sweet fruit with a content sigh.

Something in her felt at home. Not...home like the cold basement her father kept her in, or even home as in the dangerous streets of Nohr where she’s comfortable. No...this was a different feeling...a nice feeling. Like a home she had forgotten, and found again.

Why was she always so comfortable in orchards? It wasn’t like she even had any particular liking to nature. The streets were her home. Less wolves there...more predictable ones, at least. Shadows to hide in, buildings to climb...places to disappear. Here she was out in the open, nowhere to hide, and no weapon.

But that feeling of paranoia that always made her stomach turn, wasn’t there. She felt...safe. It was strange...but kinda nice…

She licked juice off her fingers and went to pluck another from the branch above her when she felt eyes on her.

“Oh no...” a familiar Hoshidian voice groaned. “It’s  _ you _ .”

Beruka glanced over to find a very annoyed looking Oboro staring up at her with a bushel of apples in her arms. She wasn’t wearing her armor...she looked nice in one of those Hoshidan kimonos. And her grimace was as...fascinating as ever.

“Greetings…” Beruka muttered with a slow wave.

“Why are you looking so comfortable?” Oboro asked, snappily of course, but she was genuinely curious...the shorter woman was at all times outside of combat as stiff as a board. A very tiny board, though your average plank of wood was more talkative, as Takumi once said.

Beruka shrugged simply as she plucked another fruit from the tree. “I’m comfortable,” she answered plainly before biting into the fruit.

“...huh.” Oboro was still eyeing her suspiciously.

Beruka felt the gaze still on her, and she glanced down at the Hoshidan. “Can I help you?” she asked curtly.

Oboro shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to admit the fact she couldn’t climb trees. “...get me some of the berries from the high branches. Lady Corrin commands it.”

Beruka hooked her legs around the branch and flipped over, reaching out towards Oboro. “Hand me your...basket…” Beruka stopped for a moment...this felt familiar...

Oboro reached up, feeling an odd twinge of deja vu herself. Beruka grabbed the basket, her hand brushing Oboro’s for a moment before she pulled herself back up. 

Oboro jolted back. She felt...something, when Beruka’s hand touched hers. Like a pinprick in her mind...no, different, more like...like someone pulling out a thorn she didn’t know was there.

“Wh-what was that?” she gasped, staring accusingly up at Beruka.

Beruka glanced down at Oboro as she plucked berries from the trees. “What are you on about, Hoshidan?” she grunted simply. “Finally lost your mind?” she jeered jokingly.

Oboro blinked and looked away. The scowl was back. “Just give me the fucking basket back, scum.”

Beruka let out a huff of amusement and laid on the branch, her arm dangling down with the basket teetering on her fingers. “Come get it.” Beruka didn’t understand why she was doing this, honestly...teasing someone like this was more Selena, or even Camilla’s forte...but it felt natural.

Oboro grumbled and jumped for it. Beruka chuckled and recoiled, snatching the basket just out of reach. Oboro tumbled to the ground and whimpered. “No fair...” No fair? Since when had she said ‘no fair’?

Beruka frowned slightly and flipped down, landing on the ground with a soft pap. “You sound like Elise,” she said plainly as she set the basket on the ground. “Here. Don’t pout.”

“I wasn’t pouting!” Oboro snapped. “Why are...” She paused. She...wasn’t sure what to say...like her train of thought had just derailed and crashed. She reached over and grabbed the basket. 

Beruka grunted softly before pulling herself back up into the tree easily. She reclined back on the trunk of the tree. She grabbed another berry and bit into it.

“Thanks, I suppose,” Oboro muttered as she walked away, grumbling under her breath, “...already behind on Takumi’s new yukata and those summer festival robes, and Elise asked me to make her a kimono and I don’t think I can turn that down...gods, I need more pink thread...”

Oboro heard the sound of wood creaking, and she glanced back, finding the limb Beruka was trembling, her hands gripping the limb. ...Beruka was shaking slightly and trying to keep herself still.

“You okay?” Oboro asked, concern arising despite her usual attitude towards Beruka (that being, ‘if she takes a mortal wound in the next battle it’ll do the world a favor’).

Beruka didn’t answer. She hung her head for a moment before suddenly jumping down and walking away, not facing Oboro as she did so. Something was wrong...very...very wrong. Beruka kept her head down as she walked...hearing Oboro talk about her...normal job. It made her chest hurt….but why, she didn’t understand.

Oboro shrugged and turned back to the direction of her tent, casting one more glance over her shoulder at Beruka. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt like letting her walk away like that was somehow...letting an old friend down, or something close to that. No...something more than that.

What in the gods’ names was going on?

* * *

Beruka sighed and grunted as she walked towards the store, her lady’s coin purse clinking in her hand. Of course she’d get sent on shopping errands...after Selena’s last excursion. Didn’t mean she liked it.

She walked in and found Oboro behind the counter. She plopped down the coin purse and spoke curtly. “Three Vulnaries and a package of bandages.”

Oboro looked up from the fabric she was sewing and reached over to grab some Vulenaries off the shelf. “Mkay.”

When she turned back, she found Beruka staring at the fabric...her hands were shaking.

“...are you okay?” Oboro hasn’t seen Beruka look this terrified in...ever.

“...I don’t know…” Beruka mumbled an answer. She put a hand on the counter and closed her eyes. Why was she so disturbed by just...seeing a work in progress. She leaned on the counter and shook her head...every thing felt...wrong… “...I don’t know…” she repeated in a weak voice. Well...weak for her.

Beruka was always disturbed by crafts, she didn't know why, but she always shrugged it off. She guarded Lady Camilla from outside her room when she did her needlework. She never knew why...maybe something denied of her childhood.

But this was different...so different. She almost felt sick, looking at the fabric Oboro was sewing together. Her head was spinning and her stomach was doing flips. Everything felt wrong...and she was starting to feel dizzy.

Oboro put down her needle, noticing Beruka’s erratic swaying, and wasted no time in vaulting the counter to catch her. Beruka easily leaned into the woman. Her body felt weak, and her mind was racing.

Oboro’s touch was warm... and comfortable. Beruka felt a little twinge inside of her... something that said this felt... right. She felt a little bit less empty. She lowered her head and put a hand on her chest.

“...I feel like I’m forgetting something…” she mumbled carefully. “...something.. .something important... I can’t... remember…” Her eyes closed and she muttered something under her breath. “...N-Nui…”

Oboro’s eyes grew wide. “Wh-what did you say?” Where had she heard that name before? It sounded familiar...but she couldn’t place it.

“I’m...not sure…” Beruka mumbled. “Ah...N...Nu…” Beruka stopped and put a hand on her head. “I can’t...remember now...it’s gone…”

Oboro paused. What had she said again?

She became suddenly aware of how tenderly she was holding Beruka. Suddenly and awkwardly, she almost shoved her aside, propping her up against a wall.

Beruka stumbled slightly and groaned. “...no need to be so rough…” she grumbled softly, rubbing her arm that bumped into the counter from the shove. “...’m delecate…” she mumbled under her breath...then stopped. What? No. No she’s not, why did she say that?

Oboro giggled. “You’re about as delicate as a dragon, dear.” Dear? That word just...slipped out of her mouth. “I-I mean Beruka.”

Beruka huffed in amusement, then stood carefully. She was feeling better now. “...yeah yeah.” She stopped for a moment before sighing. “I have chores to preform…”

Oboro nodded. “Off to your duties, my lady of the grove.” It was... sort of a joke on their previous meeting, but some part of Oboro felt it somehow meant more after it had left her lips.

Beruka went still at the name once again. She trembled before grabbing the supplies. “...don’t call me that,” she said firmly before suddenly darting out of the store.

Oboro took her seat back behind the counter. She... didn’t want to think f what just happened, but something in her mind wanted to know why. Thinking back, she recalled that work Beruka spoke. ‘Nui’...yes that was it. Perhaps she should ask Azama about it. It had a strange ring to it...and he knew about such things like that. If not him...then probably Rhajat or even her mother would know about it.

* * *

Oboro sat in Lilith’s temple, watching Nyx pace around with a book in her hand. The moment she mentioned the word Beruka uddered, Azama shook his head and darted off and Rhajat smiled and shrugged cheekily. Seems Nyx was the only one who wanted to discuss it. But she insisted in doing it here.

Lilith wasn’t there...probably talking to Corrin about...dragonly things or something. And so Oboro sat on Lilith’s pedastal, watching Nyx pace and flip through book.

“Here! I have it!” Nyx declared. “She is one of the foresaken gods. She was once a god of craft, it looks like...sewing specifically.”

“Forsaken gods?” Oboro asked. “And there was a goddess of sewing?” She snorted. “Must’ve been watching over me, then... and never taken notice of Lady Hinoka.”

“There are gods for everything,” Nyx said simply. “And there’s still a goddess of sewing. Forsaken gods are those who have been cast from the higher plane. Usually for some kind of crime.”

“There a listed crime for what she did? Murder, probably, if Beruka knows about her... or worse...”

“...she fell in love…” Nyx answered softly. “A unique crime with a unique punishment. Most are just...cast to dragons here.”

“...oh.” Oboro had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she couldn’t quite place it. “Dare I ask, what was her punishment?”

“Her and her love...are to be reincarnated as humans,” Nyx muttered. “...destine to meet again and again...forever...until they learn to hate.”

“Why in the hells would  _ love _ be a crime?” Oboro asked, confused and a bit disturbed.

“It doesn’t say…” Nyx muttered softly. “Only that it was a forbidden love between two differen’t classes. That could mean a number of things…”

“Like?”

Nyx sighed and flipped a few pages. “The details are all off...obsured, faded. But it seems to be a union the gods disagreed with. The gods are very...particular. It seemed she was excused of seducing a god of a higher station, perhaps a war god? That would be common…”

Oboro looked down to the cool water that surrounded Lilith’s pedistal. A war god...would that mean...Takumi? Or maybe...maybe Hinoka! That would be great. “Why would a scum like Beruka know the sewing goddess’s name then?”

Nyx shrugged. “Maybe some expression of...something about Nui affected her. Rhajat has noticed she’s sensitive to that sort of thing.”

“Her, sensitive?” Oboro jeered. “Spare me your jokes. She’s not ‘sensitive’ to anything.”

“Well...she seems to be,” Nyx muttered. “She noticed my daughters oddities beyond the surface.” Suddenly Nyx shook her head and put on a smile. “Alright, I hope I answered your questions. Farewell, Oboro.”

Oboro nodded, though she didn’t really feel fulfilled. But..she supposed the first place she should try would be Takumi. Or maybe...make a list of those it could be? Her brain was starting to hurt...she needed a break, time to think.

* * *

Oboro lingered around the back wall of the castle encampment. She needed a proper time to ask Takumi...and then Hinoka, and if it wasn’t either of them maybe try someone else. So of course they’re both incredibly busy today. She didn’t mind that, she needed time to think about how she would do this. She couldn’t just walk up and say ‘Hey, recognize the name Nui?’...that would be crazy…

She looked down at her hands. Touching Beruka brought things back...so maybe holding their hand would show the truth! Or many the answer lied in her own memories. She was starting to remember things that wasn’t here...but mostly sewing patterns new to her.

Oboro closed her eyes and placed a hand on the wall, her fingers lightly dragging against the smooth stones, a way to guide herself as she thought. She focused on the faces she knew, trying to see if any didn’t line up to the names she knew.

She remembered a blurry face as her hand brushed against a bush. She didn’t open her eyes, it was probably a wild berry plant.

It was...vague, but a soft face, a bit shrewd but there was something kind about the blurry eyes and the smile...oh that smile...it felt like something she would be blessed to see.

Didn’t really look like Hinoka’s smile though...but she barely remembered that. And Takumi’s? He had such a sweet smile when he actually did. But...it wasn’t the same.

Her hand brushed against a small, plump berry amongst the leaves, and she stopped. She plucked it from the bush as she opened her eyes. It was a beautiful bright red, about the size of a wild grape. Oboro leaned back on the wall and rolled the berry between her fingers. She couldn’t help but wonder how it would taste.

She flicked it into the air and leaned back slightly to catch it in her mouth. Though as it hit it’s peak, it suddenly flew sideways. A thrown pin had caught the berry, impaling it in the ground a few feet away.

Oboro looked up and noticed Beruka perched on the wall above her. The assassin slid down the wall, landing with a thump beside the bush. “Don’t eat that,” she mumbled as she rose to her feet.

“Why? This is the castle, it’s not as if Corrin would allow a poisonous plant to grow here,” Oboro said, then paused. “...wait...it’s your poison bush, isn’t it?”

Beruka didn’t answer. She simply gestured over to where the berry had landed. A small squirrel had been attracted by the leaking juice. It scurried up and snatched up the berry, quickly chewing it off the small wooden pin. It started to dart away, but only got about two feet from where it started when it suddenly started spasming...then fell over.

Beruka looked up back up Oboro with a blank expression. “Most don’t come back here,” she said simply. “Usually only have to keep the squirrels away.”

Oboro looked like she was going to throw up. The thought  _ ‘oh gods, I almost ate that’ _ went through her mind several times before she looked up at Beruka and mumbled, “I can see why.”

Beruka nodded and carefully sat down by the bush. She drew a dagger and started digging at some stray plants at the base of the bush. “Corrin allows me to keep it,” she mumbled.

“...never really took you for the gardening type,” Oboro reflected.

Beruka shrugged. “It’s useful to keep your own poison. I prefer this type,” she answered simply. “It’s a paralytic...only lethal to small bodies...or in large amounts. And once processed, one would have to inject it directly into the heart to kill even a small child. Or drink a glass of it. But it’s so bitter most wouldn’t want to do that.”

“...ah, I see.” Oboro nodded hesitantly. “...seems cruel, though, even for you.” She usually associated Camilla with cruelty, or Peri…Beruka was just clean and sharp.

“It’s a way to disable without killing,” Beruka explained softly. She drew a knife and embedded it in a slot between stones. She unscrewed the pommel and pulled out a vial of purple liquid. “I usually use it against those who insist on invading my personal space. Or against duke’s sons who think they can…” Beruka stopped as she slid the vial back in. “What’s the phrase Selena used? ‘Tame the dragon’? Yes, that.”

Oboro paused for a few moments, then the innuendo sank in. “Ah. In that case that does seem a fair use of it.”

“I use a different poison for my targets…” Beruka’s hand sank to her hip, and she procuded a strange blue vial from seemingly nowhere. “But that’s only for...special targets.” With a seeminly wave of her hand, it disappeared back into it’s hidden slot. “Before you assume, I meet steel for steel...only cowards die to poison’s bite.”

Oboro’s eyes widened with that, and she responded almost as if reading off a script, “You forget the foolish.”

Beruka sighed and nodded. “Indeed...those who eat that which they shouldn’t.” Then the assassin went still, her hands shaking slightly. Her dagger slipped and cut into one of the roots of the bush, and she instantly recoiled.

“Beruka?” Oboro asked, leaping forward to catch her. She felt shaken too..that old feeling of deja vu.

Beruka curled up in Oboro’s hold and gripped her head. “...my head...I can’t-” She groaned and shook her head weakly. “I can’t remember...it hurts...h-how...I…how did...you know…?”

“How did I...how did i know...know...what?” Oboro grabbed her head.

“The...the rest of it...I…” Beruka stopped and looked down. “...I don’t remember...wh-why can’t I remember…? I don’t…” Beruka paused and closed her eyes. “...I don’t want to be forgotten...N-Nui…” she mumbled carefully.

Instinctively, Oboro wrapped her arms around Beruka. “I’m trying...trying to remember you...Kaji...but it hurts this one, to be...” Oboro trailed off as she came to her senses...but this time, she didn’t let go.

“...I don’t...want to...be forgetten…” Beruka shook in Oboro’s arms...then went slack as she passed out completely.

“...oh, Beruka...” Oboro mumbled, not really sure why she was holding Beruka in her arms...part of her wanted to throw Beruka aside, to cast her away in disgust like the Nohrian assassin scum she was...but the rest of her now screamed no, told her to hold the smaller woman close and see her through the night.

It...it couldn’t be her, could it? Please. Please don’t let the one be Beruka...she couldn’t be, she couldn’t! It had to be Hinoka...or Takumi...or someone, anyone but her!

Though as she tried to convince herself it couldn’t be Beruka, she found herself staring down at the assassin. She looked so small and vulnerable, the hard edges faded away with sleep. She was almost completely still, only a slight movement with breath. She almost looked...cute.

Oboro blinked, and for a moment she wasn’t seeing Beruka...she was seeing a plump greenish woman, dressed in a soft green-and-brown dress, with a crown of cherry blossoms and a happier face. She seemed softer, like she had known little hardship...nowhere near what Beruka had. But...the soft blue hair, and steely eyes...it was still her, just more happy, and less mortal.

Then Oboro blinked, and she was once again holding the sad, cold assassin.

She sighed, and hoisted Beruka up. Might as well take her back to her room in the castle...decide what to do about this strangeness. M-maybe it was just...Beruka being senstive. That had to be it. She couldn’t...couldn’t fall in love with an assassin!


End file.
